


Dancing in Circles

by Markuse88



Series: Markuse88 Inktober 2019 [20]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Amnesia, Bucky Barnes Recovering, Bucky Barnes Remembers, Coming Out, Dancing, Dancing Steve Rogers, Established Relationship, First Time, M/M, Not Avengers: Age of Ultron (Movie) Compliant, Post-Serum Steve Rogers, Pre-Serum Steve Rogers, Pre-World War II Bucky Barnes, Pre-World War II Bucky Barnes/Steve Rogers, Steve Rogers Is A Lying Liar Who Lies, re-established relationship, sorta - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-11
Updated: 2020-11-11
Packaged: 2021-03-09 23:54:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,269
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27504910
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Markuse88/pseuds/Markuse88
Summary: There are certain things about Steven “Captain America” Rogers that are known facts. One of those facts is, that despite the abilities granted by the Serum, years of training, and unquestionable grace on the battlefield; Steve can’t dance.Right? Find out!
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers
Series: Markuse88 Inktober 2019 [20]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1501292
Comments: 2
Kudos: 83





	Dancing in Circles

**Author's Note:**

> Ok SO extremely late lol, but I am DETERMINED to finish this list. Anywho here is Inktober Prompt 20: Tread. I used the meaning of the phrase, "To Tread A Measure", which means to dance. I like to think it was pretty creative lol. As per the usual, this is self-edited and all mistakes are mine. It is beta-read for content by my dear friend and fellow writer, (she is phenomenal), Cowandcalf. 
> 
> As always I would LOVE to hear your thoughts and I welcome suggestions for Tags as I frequently come up blank.

“What do you mean you can’t dance? The forties was all about jazz and swing, how could you not have gotten in on that?” Bucky looked up from _Frankenstein_ at Tony’s exclamation. Usually, Bucky just let the conversation in the Tower’s common room wash over him as he read, (Actual physical books instead of digital copies much to Stark’s annoyance), or worked one of those Sudoku puzzles Bruce had got him hooked on.

Most of what they talked about didn’t really concern him so it was safe to check out and do his own thing unless one of them engaged him. Tonight was much the same until Stark mentioned his and Steve’s old days.

“I was skinnier than a rail, an asthmatic, and had two left feet, Tony. Among other things. Not many women were pounding down my door for trips to the dance halls.” Steve replied distractedly, he was currently trying to beat Natasha at Mario Kart. She was the only one that ever gave him any challenge. Besides Bucky himself.

“Yea but what about after? The Serum fixed all that.” Tony pushed as he fiddled with whatever hunk of machinery he was playing with this week.

“Not the two left feet. Besides, there was a war on I didn’t have ti…SON OF A BITCH!” The last of Steve’s sentence was cut off as Natasha red shelled him off Rainbow Road. Bucky let himself chuckle at Steve’s expletive-laced grumblings as he redoubled his efforts to beat Nat. Coming back to the world, to Steve and himself, he was delighted to find out that history viewed Steve as, among other erroneous things, a church-mouthed good boy. Truth was Steve had the foulest mouth of ANY of the Commandoes. Except for Peggy. It was always hilarious to see Steve stop trying to meet those expectations and let loose. On-lookers' reactions were even better.

“What about on stage? I could have sworn I’ve seen some old reels of you prancing around.” Natasha interjected, her voice containing the barest hint of a sour note, as Steve triple red shelled her.

Steve could also be petty and vengeful. Two more traits history had glossed over.

“ _Prancing_ being the operative word there. I can do a fancy step, prance, or wriggle but actual _dancing_ , no that doesn’t happen. Once upon a time, there were several chorus girls and a few aggrieved dance instructors with broken toes that could vouch for me.” Steve replied distractedly just before he crossed the finish line, narrowly beating Nat.

Bucky had lost interest in the game though as he focused more on Steve. There was something about the tightness around his eyes and the faint blush across the back of his neck that niggled at the back of Bucky’s mind. Bucky was familiar with this sensation. It meant that there was something he should know. Should _remember_. Usually, something old, from back in the day. Probably before the War. Before the Fall. Bucky got this feeling a lot these days. It was to be expected since he was back to sharing space with Steve in the Tower. After the fall of S.H.I.E.L.D/H.Y.D.R.A. Steve hadn’t wasted much time tracking him down and dragging him home. At first, Steve had kept him off the radar, the two of them staying in his old apartment in the Bronx. Those were difficult days that were still a bit fuzzy in Bucky’s head. Parts of the _original_ Bucky fighting to the surface, overcoming and eventually mixing with, The Asset; The Winter Soldier, to make up the Bucky he was now.

He was still a work in progress. Steve only managed to keep him under wraps for a few months though. One night while they were sitting and talking, Steve trying to catch Bucky up to the modern-day, Tony burst in the window in full armor at the same time Natasha kicked in the door; guns up. Apparently Tony had gotten control of the old S.H.I.E.L.D surveillance bugs, which included ones placed in Steve’s apartment. It was a mark of how off his game Bucky was that he hadn’t thought to check Steve’s apartment for bugs, and upon hearing them talking decided that bursting in armed to the teeth was the best option.

Bucky had shattered one of his favorite knives chucking it at Tony’s armor. In his defense, it had been a reflex action. When it was all said and done Tony had offered to let them stay in the Tower. He had already set up living space for all the Avengers anyway. Well, he had offered to let _Steve_ stay. Bucky he had wanted to lock up in a room in the sub-basement. Steve had huffed and puffed and stamped his feet and gone on and on about Bucky wasn’t the Soldier anymore and wasn’t responsible for all the things H.Y.D.R.A had made him do. Tony hadn’t been convinced, and Bucky partially and privately agreed with the scientist, but Steve had finally managed to convince him that the safest thing for everyone was for Bucky to stay close to him. Steve could go hand to hand with him in he got out of control and also served as a touchstone for the _real_ Bucky.

Tony hadn’t liked it but agreed. That had been almost a year ago now. Bucky still had his moments, the Soldiers fragmented mission memories cropped up at the worst times, frequently causing him nightmares. Pre-war memories were mixed in and recently had become more frequent. Bucky _loved_ these memories.

“I still find it hard to believe the serum didn’t correct your coordination issues. I mean it fixed everything else.” Tony’s voice brought Bucky out of his thoughts and he once more focused on the present. Tony was still tinkering with the machine in his lap, Bucky realized it looked like it had once been a toaster, and Nat and Steve were getting ready for another round of Mario Kart.

“Well, I guess it missed a few things. Why are you bugging me about this again?” Steve asked, rubbing a hand across the back of his pinked neck. The twitch in Bucky’s mind intensified at the movement. Something was…off.

“There is this gala…thing…or something that Pep is doing. Something about art or the MET or something. I figured it would be up your alley.” Tony replied before doing something to the possibly-once-a-toaster with his screwdriver that made it spark.

“Tony, what have I said about tinkering outside the lab?” Bucky smiled as Pepper's voice floated suddenly through the room. He looked up to see the woman in question pulling off her black heels by the private elevator.

“If I caused any more property damage it could come out of my personal accounts. Which to be fair isn’t much of a deterrent.” Tony replied without looking up from what he was doing.

“Tony the last time you nearly destroyed not one, not two, but three priceless, one of a kind, works of art that were on loan to us. The compensation for them would have nearly cleared out your personal account.” Pepper told him, moving to the refrigerator in the kitchenette and removing a bottle of water.

Bucky was pleased to see Stark pale to a unique shade of off-white before setting the former toaster on the coffee table. Bucky immediately started an internal count down. Stark wouldn’t be able to keep from tinkering. His record, since Bucky had been keeping track, was a minute and thirty seconds. That was only because he was helping talk Bruce down from a Hulk-out.

“I thought you would see things my way,” Pepper smirked as she seated herself primly on the arm of Tony’s chair, “It’s a Gala _dinner_ to raise money for the Met as well as other area art programs. However, there will be some live music and some dancing. Ballroom, slow dance type of stuff I’m sure. I told Tony to let you know that attendees are also being given a private tour of some of the Met’s reserve collection.” Bucky watched as Steve’s eyes went wide at the mention of the reserve collection. Bucky surmised that it must be something pretty amazing.

Bucky had vague memories of Steve dragging him to art exhibits back in the day. Bucky really hoped they got clearer. They were nice to think about.

“So dinner, dancing, and a private viewing of rare art. Like I said right up your alley.” Tony spoke up, eyes darting between the once-toaster on the table and Pepper. He was nearing the minute mark.

“If it’s anything like those other charity dinners I’ve been to I’d have to cram a few pizzas before I went. Besides, whose gonna keep Buck company if I go off rubbing elbows with richies and politicians?” Steve cut a smile toward him that Bucky knew was supposed to be commiserating and funny. Bucky gave him a smirk and an eye roll but he could see that the tightness around Steve's eyes was still there and the niggle in the back of his own mind intensified.

It was going to drive him crazy if he didn’t figure it out. He couldn’t really afford to be any crazier than he was.

“A skyscraper full of superheroes, I’m sure we could keep your bionic bo-buddy company for a few hours.” Tony replied, finally reaching out and taking up his project. Ten more seconds and he would have tied his record.

Bucky rolled his eyes at Tony correcting himself mid-word. He didn’t mind Starks’ occasional boyfriend, Bucky could never be that lucky, joke but they seemed to annoy Steve. Not that Steve was homophobic. He just didn’t like people making jokes about the two of them.

“ _Or_ James could go with you. Stark Industries has two plates. It’s not as though James is a wanted man anymore.” Pepper piped up with a quick glare at Tony, who was once again engrossed in his tinkering.

It was true. Tony had poured a buttload of money into hiring doctors, lawyers, and various other professionals and experts to help clear Bucky’s name. Bucky had had to sit through about a hundred exams and interviews, something he wouldn’t have been able to do without Steve by his side, but in the end, the War Crimes Tribunal had eventually found him innocent. It had helped that S.H.I.E.L.D/H.Y.D.R.A kept _meticulous_ records of the brainwashing and mind control they had used on him.

Amongst the other things they had done to him. Bucky didn’t like to consciously think about it.

“Thanks, Pepper, but I don’t think so.” Steve replied with a smile.

“Well think about it, you have a month before I need to hand in the names of S.I’s attendees.” Pepper replied with a smile. Steve just nodded and smiled before turning back to his game with Nat, who had been listening to the conversation with a bored sort of interest only she could manage.

“Yes, Ma’am.” Steve gave Pepper a sideways smile and little wink. Pepper blushed with a little giggle, Tony glared like an angry Chihuahua at Steve, and Bucky rolled his eyes at all three of them. Steve wasn’t much of a flirt if memory served, but Bucky knew he made an exception for Pepper. It was completely harmless, everyone knew that, but Steve enjoyed riling Tony up on occasion.

***

_‘Besides Buck, you know I can’t dance.’_ Bucky turned that sentence over and over in his head as he lay in bed. After Natasha grew tired of whipping Steve at Mario Kart they had come back to their floor for dinner. Steve, bless his heart, still couldn’t even boil water without supervision so when they didn’t order in Bucky dealt with the cooking.

Bucky found that he thoroughly enjoyed cooking. Back in the day, they didn’t really have much variety, money, and supplies being what they were, but in the future…present…whatever, they had a plethora of options and Bucky enjoyed experimenting. If Steve’s constant moans and groans of obvious enjoyment were anything to go by he enjoyed Bucky's efforts as well.

After dinner, they had crashed on the sofa and brought up a movie. The two of them were working their way through everything from classics to modern classics, from animation and B-movies. Steve, being the artist, thoroughly enjoyed all forms of animated movies, hand-drawn, digital, and even Claymation. Bucky himself enjoyed sci-fi. They had to avoid most war movies and the more gruesome horror movies. Both of them still had their issues.

Tonight had been the first Jurassic Park. Bucky loved it. Thanks to Tony and Bruce he knew the premise was preposterous but the story and the effects were fucking spectacular. Once the movie was over Steve pulled out his movie notebook and crossed it off the list. This was a different one from his Catch Up notebook, dedicated as it was to movies.

“I can’t wait till we do Star Wars.” Steve smiled as he went through his list.

“I’ve been meaning to ask how much longer we were going to torture Stark about that.” Bucky replied as he cleaned up the popcorn bowls and soda cans.

Ever since Tony had declared that they weren’t _allowed_ to watch the classic Trilogy without the team, apparently he wanted to do a viewing party for some fucking reason, he and Steve had been putting it off. Any time Tony brought the movies up they pushed it off another month.

“Dunno, he’s not mentioned it in a few weeks. Even if I bait the hook he doesn’t bite.” Steve chuckled, following him into the kitchen. Steve was a little shit and brought up movies they were watching or planning to watch at least once a week around Tony. Just to get Tony’s goat.

Bucky loved the little bastard. 

They had gone through their evening routine silently after that. Once showered and changed into pajamas they had met at the kitchen island for a cup of sleepy time tea that Steve, the big granny, swore by.

“You know, if you wanted to, you could go to that art thing. Like Tony said, I’m sure I could be occupied for a night without you.” Bucky had meant it to be a joke but when he looked up at Steve with a smirk he found the other man giving him a pained expression.

“Buck, I know you don’t need a minder twenty-four-seven,” Stevie said with more emotion than what Bucky was intending, “I was just screwing with Tony. He makes his dumb couple jokes thinking it’s gonna get to me one of these days and it annoys him when I play into them.” Steve was smiling now and Bucky gave him a small smirk. Stevie could be such a little shit.

“I’m just saying punk if you wanted to go, go. We could grab some food from the Carp first so you don’t wither away and it would give you a chance to wear that monkey suit in your closet.” Bucky replied and Steve arched an eyebrow.

“How do you know about that?” Steve asked him and Bucky rolled his eyes.

“The same way I know about the playbill signed by all the chorus girls you used to work with and your sour candy stash.” Steve blushed as he spoke and Bucky decided not to mention the other stuff he had found in his recon of the apartment. Stuff that made his hands shake and heart pound.

“Do I need to move my candy stash?” Steve mumbled without looking at him.

Bucky rolled his eyes again.

“The question is why were you hiding it in the first place?” Bucky asked, sipping at his tea.

Steve, if possible, blushed even harder and stared at the ceiling while mumbling something about. ‘Nat’, and ‘teasing’. Bucky made a note to badger the story out of Steve later.

“It sounds nice, at least the art, but I dunno. Going alone would suck and I dunno who else would appreciate it. Besides Buck, you know I can’t dance.” Steve shrugged with a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes.

***

He had let the conversation drop after that but now, lying in bed, he wished he hadn’t. He ran that line over and over through his head because it was familiar in a way he _knew_ was connected to his past but he couldn’t figure out _how_.

The twitch in the back of his mind was intensifying and working up to a headache. Bucky knew that if he kept pushing he was gonna give himself a migraine. He couldn’t _force_ his memories to come back. They had to filter back in naturally. At least that was what his therapist was always telling him.

With a huff of annoyance, he punched his pillow into a more comfortable shape and forced his mind elsewhere.

~~~

“Alright Stevie, up and at’em.” Bucky said, turning to Steve. His heart stuttered like normal at the sight of the skinny little shit curled up on the sofa, sketch pad in hand. Steve was working on a commission for an advert for one of the shops down the way. It wouldn’t be much but it was the first thing Steve had been able to get in a few months. He didn’t mind working to take care of them but Bucky knew Steve hated not being able to pull his weight. Bucky was gonna try and take a few days off at the docks to make him feel better.

“Can’t Buck, working.” Steve replied distractedly with a wave over his shoulder. Bucky rolled his eyes and moved over to the sofa and loomed, Steve’s word not his, over his friend.

“You’ve got four options already Stevie and over a week before your deadline. Plenty of time to turn out more masterpieces. However _we_ have a date this weekend and _you_ need practice.” Bucky told him while silently telling his heart to calm down. It wasn’t _that kind_ of date.

“Why do you keep trying to set me up? These girls never like me. Besides Buck, you know I can’t dance.” Steve replied, but closed his sketch pad.

“Because the right girl is right around the corner Stevie. Just got to find her. As to the dancing, that’s what record players and records are for.” Bucky hiked a thumb over his shoulder as he spoke. Stevie leaned over and looked around him before looking up at him.

“Where did you get those Buck?” Steve asked him and Bucky rolled his eyes at Steve’s tone. That was his ‘don’t waste money’ tone.

“Relax Punk, I didn’t _buy_ it. I borrowed it. The records too. I’m gonna teach you to dance and this way we don’t have to wait for the right music to come on the radio.” Bucky turned away to queue up a record but he could feel Steve glaring at his back.

“ _You’re going to teach me to dance?”_ Steve asked him and Bucky rolled his eyes.

“Is there an echo in here or something,” Bucky laughed at his own joke even as Steve huffed behind him, “Yes _I’m_ going to teach you to dance so quit stalling and get up.” Once the music started up Bucky turned to Steve with a smile. Steve once more huffed in annoyance but set aside his sketchbook and stood up with a stretch. Bucky’s breath caught in his chest for a moment as he took in the sight. He knew Steve hated how he looked, being short and slim, but Bucky thought he was damn handsome. Especially now, his normally neat blonde hair was in slight disarray, likely from running his hands through it. His fingertips were darkened from his artwork and there was a dark smudge of graphite low on his jaw.

“When you’re walking around with broken toes you’re only gonna have yourself to blame.” Steve warned him seriously but Bucky just raised his brows at Steve’s feet. Bare save for the two pairs of socks he was wearing. Even though it was summer Steve’s feet still got cold.

“Unless you’re gonna jam your heals down on me on purpose I think I’ll be alright.” Bucky replied wiggling his own sock-clad toes in emphasis.

“Let’s just get this over with. What do you want me to do?” Steve replied shortly. Bucky just grinned.

Despite Steve’s protests, he did pretty well as Bucky walked him through some of the lighter jazz and swing steps. With his asthma, Stevie obviously couldn’t do the more exuberant stuff but that was alright.

“That was pretty good Stevie. Little more practice and you’ll be a real Ducky shinecracker,” Bucky said with a smile as he moved over to the record player to change it out, “Now for the hard stuff.” Bucky teased and Steve groaned behind him.

“ _This_ wasn’t the hard stuff?” Steve asked, a bit out of breath. Bucky’s gaze snapped to Stevie with a critical look, worrying he had pushed his friend too hard. Steve was indeed a bit flushed and his breathing just a hair raspy.

“I was just funnin’ ya, Stevie,” Bucky replied as he lifted the needle, “I just want to show ya the waltz and the foxtrot. It can wait though, let’s take a break and get a drink.”

“I’m fine Buck, we don’t need to stop. I can handle a waltz. Let’s just get it over with.” Steve replied, stubbornness filling his voice. Bucky wanted to protest but he knew better and instead just nodded and put the needle back down. As a slower song started up Bucky moved back to Steve’s side. He knew he was playing with fire, teaching Stevie to dance. Touching Stevie, holding him close, that wasn’t really a problem. The two of them had been in an out of each other’s pockets since they were kids. In the winter, when heating oil got low, sharing a bed was common, as was waking up with a bone-on. No touching wasn’t the problem. The dancing itself was. Teaching Stevie to cut a rug just reminded Bucky how much he wanted it to be Steve he took out to the dance halls rather than the dame of the week.

“Ok Stevie, waltzing and the foxtrot are a bit harder than what we’ve been doing. You can keep time pretty well, I know, but you and your girl are gonna be closer together. You gotta keep the time, mind your feet, and hers.” Bucky smiled when Steve arched an eyebrow at him.

“I think I can handle it, Buck.” Steve replied with a bored tone.

“We’ll see. Now get over here.” Bucky ordered and Steve grumbled as he stepped closer. Bucky forced himself to keep an easy smile and a firm hand as he gripped Steve’s small hand in his before putting the other on his waist, pulling him close by necessity of their height difference.

“Hey,” Steve yelped, pulling back a bit, “I ain’t the dame here Buck, I can lead.”

“If you could lead, punk, I wouldn’t be doing this. Besides, I’ve been leading you all night. You leading is the next lesson.” Bucky was outwardly confident but inside was wondering why Stevie was reluctant all of a sudden. Bucky was pretty sure he hadn’t given himself away.

“Fine, fine. Let’s go.” Steve grumbled, eyes down, as he stepped back into his grip.

“Just focus on moving with me Stevie. Back when I come forward, forward when I step back. Ignore the music for now and just move when I move.” Bucky directed before starting to move. They fumbled for a few moments but, just like before, Steve eventually got the hang of it.

“Good work Stevie,” Bucky said before subtly changing his gait to better match the music, “Eyes up on me though, not your feet. Gotta keep your eyes on your date if you’re gonna lead.” Bucky admonished but was almost immediately sorry he had. Stevie looked up at him and Bucky’s breath caught in his throat. Steve’s blue eyes were wide and filled with an emotion Bucky couldn’t quite name but it sent a pang of longing down his spine, right into his gut….

~~~

EEEEENT, EEEEENT, EEEEENT.

The alarm yanked Bucky out of his dream and, in a fit of annoyance, he reached over and crushed the clock with his metal hand. Sitting up he scrubbed his flesh hand through his jaw-length hair as he forced his mind back to the dream. He wanted to commit as much of it to memory as he could before it slipped away, like so many of his dreams did, but as he reviewed it he realized that it was staying with him. It wasn’t just a dream. It was a _memory_. It was spotty in places but Bucky _knew_ that the two of them had been back in their apartment in Brooklyn. Back before the war, before Bucky’s draft, before the serums and science experiments.

The apartment may have been fuzzy but the rest of the stuff, the _important stuff_ , was perfectly clear. Little Stevie pressed up against him, the way their socked toes brushed as their steps fumbled, the feel of Steve’s cool and calloused hands in his. Bucky could even feel the phantom sensation of Steve’s body in his metal hand. Bucky fell back onto his bed and tossed an arm over his eyes as he worked through the dream-memory again and again.

Two things were clear to Bucky now.

  1. Bucky had been in love with Steve for a _very_ long time. He had suspected this from other memories but the nerves and butterflies he had back then with Steve in his arms made it very clear.
  2. Steve Rogers was a lying liar who _lies_. He may not have been great at it but he _could_ dance and Bucky was gonna prove it.



***

Steve sat at the breakfast bar and sipped at a mug of tea as he watched Bucky on the couch across the room. Buck was up to something but Steve wasn’t sure what. The last week he had been glued to his Stark-Pad near constantly. Steve had asked him a few times but Bucky always answered by giving him a little smirk and telling him that he was working on a project. Steve wasn’t sure Bucky remembered but Steve _knew_ that smirk and it never bode well for him. On one hand, Steve was looking forward to whatever Bucky had in store. Bucky knew him better than anyone so whatever it was it couldn’t be _too_ bad. On the other hand though _because_ Bucky knew him so well it very well _could_ be that bad.

They had pulled several pranks on each other in their youth, Steve vividly remembered the shoe polish in Bucky’s hair, and so if it was a practical joke that Bucky was gearing up for then Steve intended to take whatever it was with a grin and a good attitude. Steve knew that Bucky was recovering well and at a speed that bordered on unbelievable. More and more pre-HYDRA and pre-War memories leaked back into his mind every few weeks. Nightmares from his time as the Soldier were still a problem, occurring four and five nights out of the week, but that was down from every night. Furthermore, they weren’t the end of his nights’ sleep. Bucky could, usually, shake them off and get a few more hours. The worst ones still required a late-night trip down to the gym to work out the anxiety and aggression but they were becoming rarer.

Steve couldn’t be happier with how Buck was doing and he was determined to do everything he could to help him. He knew that the Bucky he knew, had grown up with, might never be one hundred percent back but that was more than all right. He wasn’t the same guy from back then either.

Steve did hold out hope that one part of the old Bucky was still in there somewhere. The part that was the twin of the kernel of the old Steve that was still in him. The part that was in love with Bucky…and had been for as long as he could remember. They hadn’t been together long before the War tore them apart but they had had every intention of spending their life together. He had loved Peggy, but not in the same way, and it had been the same for her. Both of them had known that they weren’t meant for a lifetime and they had been ok with it. That’s one reason it had been so easy to put himself down with the Valkyrie. Bucky was gone. H.Y.D.R.A was gone and there wasn’t anything or anyone waiting for him back in the states.

It was bittersweet, and Steve would never say it out loud for fear of it sounding belittling to Bucky and what he had gone through, but part of him was almost _happy_ to be wrong.

“Alright Stevie, up and at’em.” Bucky’s words pulled Steve out of his thoughts. The sentence seemed to stroke something in the back of his mind but Steve couldn’t place it. However, when Steve looked up to find Bucky grinning at him the memory rushed back at him in startling clarity. Steve swallowed hard and set his tea down, his hands trembling slightly.

“What…what’s up Buck?” Steve decided feigning ignorance would be the best course of action until he was sure of _exactly_ what was going on. Even so, he couldn’t help the little uptick in his heartbeat. This was how it all started back then…

“I’ve decided I’m gonna teach you how to dance Stevie. You don’t have to be the next Fred Astaire but every guy needs to know how to cut a rug.” Bucky replied with a smile before moving over to the stereo. Steve got up to move into the living room, intent on dissuading Bucky, who didn’t seem to remember how significant this was. However, he stumbled when a familiar song came on. The same fucking song that Bucky had played the first time.

“Did…didn’t you hear what I told Stark, Buck? Chorus girls with broken toes and homicidal dance instructors?” Steve tried for humorous but he knew his voice was hoarse.

“Sure I did Stevie,” Bucky replied turning away from the stereo to grin at him again, “But we’re not gonna have those problems.” Buck stepped close to him as he spoke.

“What makes you say that?” Steve’s nerves gave way to curiosity and minor annoyance at Bucky’s challenging smirk.

“For one those instructors probably quailed under your Glare. However, I’m immune to it. For two, unless you jam your heals down on my toes on purpose I don’t think that’s gonna be a problem.” Bucky punctuated this statement by bumping his sock-clad toes against Steve’s likewise cloth covered ones. Both he and Bucky were still bizarrely prone to cold feet so the two of them had a collection of fluffy socks in ridiculous patterns. Today Bucky was wearing garishly pink and green striped that clashed awfully with Steve’s black with purple polka dots.

“Eyes up here Stevie, not on your feet.” Bucky’s voice seemed a million miles away and Steve looked up to find Bucky smiling softly at him. In that instant, Steve wondered if Bucky _did_ remember.

Steve didn’t reply. Instead, he let Buck lead him through some of the old jazz and swing steps from their youth. These days they would be considered old-fashioned but back then they were the height of style. For a few moments, Steve was able to forget how complicated dancing was for him and just let himself remember and re-live some of the good old days as Bucky twirled him around the room.

Then the music changed though, becoming softer and slower. It was an instrumental version of a more recent song but Steve couldn’t place it without the words. It didn’t matter though. Not when Bucky turned him until they were facing each other again. Steve's whole body went numb and his heart started to jackhammer against his sternum as Bucky pulled him close and gripped his waist. He just stood there a moment until Bucky raised his eyebrows at him and Steve put his arms over Buck’s shoulders, hands clasped behind his neck.

“You use to complain about me treating you like a dame, Stevie.” Bucky’s smirk was softer now, his voice richer and holding a twinge of his old Brooklyn accent.

“You…you ‘member that Buck?” Steve asked dumbly.

“’ Course I do, punk. ‘Least now. I didn’t at first. Not till that night, after you talked to Stark. Going on about how you can’t dance. What would people think if they found out that Captain America was a fibber?” Bucky teased as he started to move them in a slow shuffle. Steve’s body remembered and instantly fell into step with Bucky’s lead without him even thinking about it.

“I _can’t_ dance Bucky. Not with….not without….” The words stuck in Steve’s throat and he let his forehead fall against Bucky’s collarbone.

“Not without what…doll?” Bucky whispered, lips pressed against his temple. The old endearment shattered the last of Steve’s uncertainty and he turned and pressed his lips to Bucky’s neck before answering.

“Without _you_ Bucky.”

~~~

Bucky was whistling as he fiddled with the record player, completely oblivious to the fact that Steve was about to have a heart attack behind him. The last week had been an odd mixture of amazing and slow, agonizing torture.

It was amazing because he was finally getting to dance with Bucky. It was one of the things that Steve had wanted for so long. He always hated Bucky dragging them on double dates because they almost always ended up at a dance hall. Seeing Bucky holding dames close, wooing them, and spinning them around the dancefloor, always made him jealous because it wasn’t him.

Now that Steve was finally getting his wish, and not being too bad at it to boot, it was great. But it was also torture…because it didn’t mean anything. Bucky wasn’t dancing with him for him. But to get him ready for another damn double date. Which they were supposed to be going on in a few hours. That was a problem, to be sure, but it wasn’t one that Steve was unfamiliar with. He had been dealing with Buck doing this for ages. He was prepared to deal with another evening with a disinterested, bordering on derisive, woman. He was even prepared to actually show off some of the dancing Bucky had been working on with him. He was sure that it wouldn’t make much difference with his date but Steve didn’t really care.

No, the real problem was with _him_. It was getting too damn hard to keep himself under control when he and Bucky were swaying and swinging around the room. Every lesson he went in telling himself not to get too caught up. To stay focused. Not to get lost in the fantasy. It was far easier said than done though. Even if it shouldn’t have been. He and Buck had been in each other’s space their whole lives. Playing, working, living, and even sleeping together. Hell, they even bathed together as kids. These days they were alone in the tub but the other was still nearby, Sunday baths spent talking as they scrubbed up.

With all that, the familiarity of scent and touch, it should have been easy to wrangle his body and mind into submission. But it wasn’t. Steve couldn’t count the number of times he had had to excuse himself to the bathroom the last week to will his hard cock to go soft.

It was dumb, Steve knew, but he couldn’t help it. It’s not like they hadn’t experienced each other’s morning wood before. It was always treated the same. A crass comment and an averted gaze while they got themselves in order. He could hear Buck now, going on about holding close and friction and whatnot. But that wasn’t Steve’s problem. It was _Bucky_. Warm skin and clean sweat from a hard day’s work. Work rough hands touching him all over. Bucky’s voice in his ear.

It was just…it was too hard to not fall into the fantasy.

“Alright, Stevie. Let’s get it going. We’re gonna go over the stuff we’ve already done this week and then we can get cleaned up for our night out.” Bucky’s cheerful voice pulled Steve out of his morose thoughts.

“If we’re just reviewing can’t we skip it? I’m not gonna forget before now and tonight.” Steve asked, hoping to get out of it but knowing it likely wouldn’t happen.

“’ Course not Punk. Practice makes perfect after all. Besides you’re still a bit stiff at times.” Bucky replied as the music kicked up.

Wincing internally at Bucky’s choice of words Steve got up off the couch and moved over to his friend. Bucky just smiled and grabbed his hands, maneuvering him into position. Like before they started with the jazz and swing steps. Bucky would lead him through then let Steve lead them through the same moves for the experience. Steve didn’t usually start having issues until they got to the slower, closer stuff, but today he had to keep his mind wandering right from the off.

It was _hot_ today. Hot enough that Buck, who had managed to take the weekend off, had wandered around the apartment in just his tank top and a pair of shorts. Steve had opted to keep his trousers and had distracted himself working on his latest commission. Now though he couldn’t ignore the way sweat made Bucky’s arms and chest glisten, how the heat magnified Bucky’s earthy, spicy scent. It took the full force of his mind to concentrate on the dancing and not the way Bucky’s large, warm hands felt as they skimmed across his own sweat-slick and exposed arms, the way Bucky’s heat seeped through his own tank top and warmed his usually cooler flesh.

As the music changed, becoming softer and slower, Steve did as well. One hand rested on Buck’s shoulder while Bucky took the other in a firm but gentle grip. Bucky’s other hand rested on his waist, a warm and comfortable weight. As Bucky started to lead them through the steps Steve’s will started to crumble and, without realizing it, he moved more fully into Bucky’s space to they were pressed flush from sternum to groin.

Seemingly of its own accord, Steve’s hand moved from Bucky’s shoulder to slide under his arm to rest along his neck as Steve laid his head on Bucky’s shoulder. He heard Bucky’s breath hitch and their movement stuttered for a moment but it didn’t really _register_ in his mind. His brain and body were consumed with the heat of Bucky’s bigger body leeching into his skin, his musky scent; colored by clean sweat and cigarette smoke, filling his nose. Steve’s rationale didn’t kick back In until he realized that he was nuzzling into the thin patch of dark hair peeking above the top of Bucky’s tank top and his hard cock was pressed against Bucky’s thigh.

Steve yelped, yanked away from Bucky, and took off like a shot. He didn’t even know where he was going just that he needed to go, to _get away_. He had barely laid a hand on the doorknob when Bucky’s arm wrapped around his waist and lifted him bodily away from the door.

“What the _hell_ do you think you’re doing Punk? You can’t go runnin’ round barefoot. Your feet’ll end up all cut up and infected.” Bucky groused and all thoughts of struggle and fighting went out of Steve at the caring under Bucky’s gruff tone. If he was still willing to take care of him like this then maybe he could still salvage something of their friendship.

“Buck…I’m sorry…I dunno what came over me. I think it was the heat and the friction and…-“Anything else Steve might have said died in his throat as Bucky grabbed him by the hips and pulled him flush against him. Bucky was hard. As hard as he had been moments ago, before fear and flight or fight had killed his arousal, and pressed firmly against his waist.

Steve gulped when Bucky leaned down and rubbed his scruffy days-growth-of-beard against his own smooth cheek before speaking directly in his ear.

“It’s _not_ just heat and friction Stevie. And it’s ok, _more_ than ok…If that’s what you want too.” The last was spoken uncertainly as he pulled away. Steve was shocked by the obvious want on Bucky’s face, in his voice, and couldn’t stand that it was colored with doubt and uncertainty.

Instead of words, Steve let his hands, which had been hanging dumbly at his sides, run up Bucky’s stomach and chest. Palms flat and fingers spread he moved slowly over the body warmed cotton, thumbs briefly teasing the soft bumps of Bucky’s nipples underneath, (making Bucky shiver), until he could cradle Bucky’s head. He tugged gently and Bucky leaned down until their lips met.

The first kiss stole Steve’s breath, his heart had already been Bucky’s for over a decade, while the second and third; now accompanied by Buck’s big hands roving over his torso and arms, sealed his fate.

Somewhere around the fourth or fifth desperate exchange, they had to keep breaking for Steve to breathe, (fucking _asthma_ ), Steve found himself scooped up and pressed against the wall. Instead of bitching Bucky out for that, (he’d do it later, maybe), Steve decided to go with it and wrapped his legs around Buck’s waist for more leverage.

It was a hundred times dirtier than what Steve fantasied his first time with Bucky would be like but it was still _so_ good. At some point, between frenzied touches, breathless kiss, and uncoordinated grinding and humping, Bucky managed to unclip Steve’s suspenders and pull off his tank top, followed by his own. The warm slide of their sweat-slicked, and in Bucky’s case fuzzy, torsos was so good it became too much for Steve. Locking arms and legs around Bucky and muffling a loud orgasmic groan against Bucky’s neck, Steve came hard enough in his pants that it nearly triggered an asthma attack.

Lightheaded, Steve staved it off by gulping in sweat tangy breaths against Buck’s skin while he was pressed more firmly against the wall while Bucky chased his own release. It was only a moment before Bucky was giving a strangled cry, muffled through clenched teeth pressed against Steve’s neck.

Despite both of them cumming it was a long moment before they moved. Bucky seemed happy to support Steve’s weight, aided by the wall, for eternity. Eventually, a combination of Steve’s legs cramping and the cooling mess in their clothes prompted them to move. Bucky _carried_ Steve to his room and laid him down on the bed before leaving with a quiet, ‘be right back’. Trying not to think too much, to stave off the inevitable what-ifs, Steve stripped out of his pants and cleaned himself up as best as he could with his sodden underwear. Just as he finished Buck came back in with a cloth and bowl of steaming water.

Bucky set the bowl aside and without a word pushed Steve back to lay on the bed before dipping the cloth into the water and wringing it out. Steve couldn’t help the shudder that wracked him when Bucky cradled his soft cock and spent balls in his calloused hand while methodically cleaning him up.

Once done Steve could only watch, slightly aroused but still soft, as Bucky shucked his shorts and briefs down and cleaned himself. Steve, being slightly underdeveloped for his age and sporting only a small patch of admittedly thick blonde curls around his cock, was mesmerized by Bucky’s endowment. Buck was a shower and his cock hung thick and soft, pillowed by dark fuzzed balls, from a nest of thick, wiry black hairs.

“My eyes are up here Stevie.” Buck’s words made Steve blush and his eyes snap up. He wasn’t surprised to see Bucky giving him a shit-eating smirk.

Bucky tossed the cloth into the bowl, splashing the water a bit before laying down alongside him on the narrow bed. It took a certain amount of pushing, pulling, and rearranging before they settled. Laying face to face, legs tangled and bodies flush, they exchanged sleepy kisses and dopey smiles.

“We’ll figure this out Stevie, don’t worry your pretty little head. You’ve always been my best fella and you always will be.” Bucky whispered to him sometime later, as though he had been reading the doubts and worries in the back of Steve’s mind.

Deciding against speaking, for fear of breaking the magic of the evening, Steve just cuddled closer and let himself fall off into sleep.

~~~

“We never made it on the date that night.” Steve said as Bucky carded his metal fingers through Steve’s short hair. During Steve’s recounting of their coming together, they had moved from standing in the middle of the floor to the couch. Bucky was sitting with Steve laying stretched across it, head resting on a throw pillow on Bucky’s lap.

“I remember. Now at least. Most of it.” Bucky replied, a slight blush adorning his cheeks that matched Steve’s. Over the last few weeks, Bucky had had many dreams about him and Steve as well as recovered several memories while awake. The majority of them having to do with him and Steve dancing. But they were never as detailed as that first one and Bucky hadn’t recalled _this_ particular evening _at_ _all_. Not until the words started tumbling out of Steve’s mouth. Then it came rushing back almost in perfect sync with Steve’s retelling.

Bucky had had dreams and snatches of memory of him and Steve being together, _romantically_ , before. Until the dreams/memories of them dancing together had started to surface though he hadn’t even been sure they were real or just fantasies.

Now it was all confirmed. He and Steve had been together. _Really_ together. Bucky _knew_ that they had had plans for after the war. Things they were going to do. He didn’t _remember_ but he _knew_. He’d remember eventually.

“We …we slept through the evening. Marie came over after church the next day. Read me the riot act for standing up her and Ethel. Went on and on about how much they had been looking forward to it. We ended up going out later that week.” Bucky said quietly, eyes far away, as the memory filtered back in.

“ _Marie_ had been looking forward to it. Ethel made it more than clear on the make-up date that she hadn’t minded too much. Despite me being able to do some passable dancing. I can’t really blame her. Back then women wanted a man that could take care of them. Not the other way around.” Steve, Bucky knew, was aiming for nonchalant but there was a shadow in his eyes and a bitterness in his voice.

“Those girls didn’t know what they were missing out on Stevie. Not that I can complain much about that.” Bucky told him and Steve gave him a sweet smile in return.

“Same here, Buck.” Steve replied, taking Bucky’s metal hand and linking their fingers over his stomach.

They were quiet for a bit, enjoying the renewed intimacy between them that somehow felt both new and familiar at the same time.

“Neither of us tried very hard with the dames after that,” Steve spoke up after a while, “I mean I never did but you, you had a different girl every week. The ladies loved you. But once we were together you eased off. You still went out with the ladies, drug me along when you found a girl that could scrounge up a friend, but not as often and…and you never made time with any of them.”

Bucky slid his free hand into Steve’s golden hair and stroked his thumb across his forehead.

“’ Course I didn’t make time with any of them Stevie. I had you, my best fella, after all. Hell, if memory serves, I never did it all that much before we got together. They were nice and all but…hell Stevie I think I was sweet on you from the time we were kids.” Bucky confessed, a bit breathlessly as fragmented images and emotions welled up in his head.

As it started to become too much, too many things forced into his head, he felt his chest tighten and his breathing became labored. Dimly he was aware of Steve moving and suddenly Steve was straddling his lap hands tight on his shoulders.

“Easy Buck, easy. Focus on the sound of my voice, the rise, and fall of my chest.” Steve took one of his hands and pressed it against his massive chest, while he kept up a litany of meaningless babble. It worked though and after a moment the cacophony in his head calmed down and he was able to focus on Steve.

Steve who was sitting in his lap. Their stomachs and groins were pressed together and Bucky could feel the heat radiating off Steve’s body. Feeling a little lightheaded Bucky closed his eyes and gripped steve’s waist to keep himself grounded.

“Shit…I…I can move if you want.” Steve offered but Bucky didn’t think he really wanted to.

“No…No it’s fine. Just a lot of stuff filtered in all at once. Don’t…don’t go. Just…Stay. Keep talking.” Bucky replied, squeezing Steve tighter.

Steve muttered something that Bucky didn’t catch but wiggled a bit, apparently to make himself more comfortable, before going on.

“I guess it’s not really true, saying I can’t dance. I can…but only with _you_. I could manage it with the girls you set us up with but that was because I had to. I hated that, using the girls like that, but as you said…there were enough rumors about the two of us.” Steve’s voice was once more bitter and Bucky snapped his eyes open to meet Steve’s.

“I’da snapped the neck of any fucker that messed with you, Stevie. But hell…keeping your chaotic little ass out of _normal_ trouble was a full-time job.” Bucky told him sincerely and Steve glared at him for a moment before knocking their foreheads together gently.

“I know _asshole_. But that doesn’t mean I had to like the methods we had to use.” Steve replied with a small grin.

“I always made it up to you though. If my new memories serve.” Bucky mumbled, a little embarrassed. He still needed to sit down and make sense of it all but the newest memory dump had given him _a_ _lot_ information about his methods of cheering Steve up after one of their fake dates.

Surprisingly, or maybe not, it wasn’t all sex. Oh, he and Stevie got up to their fair share of boot knocking but there were a lot of nights curled up on the couch, listening to the radio. Sitting for _hours_ in various stages of dress and undress for Stevie to sketch him, (he wondered where those sketches ended up at), and dancing. Almost every night, and after every date, he and Steve would take a few turns around their living room. They even bought their own records and player, he knew, after Bucky had to return the ones he had borrowed.

“Yea you did,” Steve smiled with a blush, “After you shipped out…I couldn’t stand the idea of dancing with anyone else. It made my stomach turn. When they put me on stage and tried to get me to cut a rug with the girls…I would just flashback to me and you in socks, boxers, and shirtsleeves, stepping ‘round the apartment together and I’d just…I’d lose it. So I faked it. Hated putting those girls through that, they were all so damn nice to me, but it was the only way to sell it. After a while, they stopped trying. Mostly cause the girls couldn’t dance with busted toes.” Steve chuckled, a bit bitterly, and Bucky moved one hand from Steve’s waist to rub up and down Steve’s back. It was a familiar action that he knew calmed Stevie down. It was one of the first memories to come back to him.

True to history Steve slumped a bit, clasping his hands behind Bucky’s neck for balance, and leaned into his touch. They were quiet for a while once more and Bucky used the moments to organize some of the new memories in his head. After a minute though something showed up and it made him chuckle.

“What?” Steve asked, voice a bit drowsy but curious.

“Peg knew. About you and me, about you being able to dance. She _caught_ us.” Bucky laughed heartily now. Eyes closed he could see the look of surprise, followed by a smile, on Peggy’s face and the stricken look on Steve’s face as he damn near stuttered himself into an asthma attack trying to explain.

It had been between missions, late night when everyone should have been asleep, with him and Stevie in the relative privacy of Steve’s officer tent. There hadn’t been any music, save for the two of them humming some old song, but they held each other close and turned around the small space none the less. Bucky recalled it was one of the few moments of intimacy they had allowed themselves for fear of getting caught.

Steve joined him in laughing, likely because he remembered now too, and once they had caught their breath explained.

“Peg knew before that. I’m pretty sure. At least about the dancing. No one could ever really get anything over her. About me and you...she at least suspected I think. We both know we weren’t each other’s end-all-be-all, even though we _did_ love each other. Just not enough. Not that way. She was happy for us. She told me…before the train.” Steve’s voice grew quieter as he spoke until the last sentence was little more than a whisper.

Even now, after a year of living together and enough therapy, between the two of them, to choke a horse they still didn’t talk about the train. About the Fall. Nor did they talk about the Valkyrie and what Steve did. They would have to, one day, but not tonight.

Bucky moved his left hand up to rest at Steve’s neck, his thumb brushing over Steve’s cheek.

“I know a lot has changed Stevie, me and you, the world. But not everything. I still love you, Stevie. I still want you to be my best fella…if you want that too.” Bucky confessed quietly and Steve gave him a big, bright smile before he gripped Bucky’s metal hand tight enough for the pressure sensors to spike.

“I’ve always been your best fella Buck…and that’s never gonna change. No Matter what. Not now, not ever.” Steve replied, steel behind his smile. At those words, Bucky couldn’t hold back anymore and pulled Steve down into a kiss.

It was a _mess_. Born of long years denied, too much tongue, and teeth clacking as they fought into a rhythm. Eventually, it evened into an easy give and take as hands roamed slowly over clothed torsos.

“So…you think you can still hold me up against the wall?” Steve asked, breathless, once they pulled apart to catch their breath.

“I can damn well try.” Bucky growled, grabbing Steve’s hips and levering himself off the couch and over to the nearest wall, Steve hooting with laughter all the way.

###

13ish months later.

“You sure you’re ok with this Buck?” Steve asked, cutting a look at Bucky from the corner of his eye.

“Course I’m sure Rogers, why wouldn’t I be? This was _my_ idea after all.” Bucky replied, tugging at his bowtie carefully. Steve just smiled at the slightly askew garment. Bucky hated ties in all their forms.

“I just wanted to make sure. There’s no going back after this.” Steve answered. _He_ was sure. He just wanted to make sure Bucky was.

Bucky turned and smiled at him, a flirty, cocky smile that was straight out of the forties and _did_ things to him. Bucky knew bout those things and did it anyway.

Bucky was a _bastard_ and Steve Loved him.

“Listen, Stevie, I didn’t cut my hair, get fitted for this monkey suit, and leave all my guns and most of my knives at home to back out now. But if you don’t wanna do this we don’t have to.” Bucky replied, running his metal hand through said short hair.

Steve was shocked when Bucky showed up to the apartment with his shoulder-length hair shorn down to a style reminiscent of the old days without being an exact copy. So shocked in fact he _may_ have dropped his paint palette on the floor. He knew Buck had been getting fond of the longer hair but Steve really hoped he kept it like this for a little while.

“You do clean up real nice Buck. You look like a proper gentleman.” Steve remarked as he straightened the lapels of Bucky’s tux.

“Same to you Stevie.” Bucky replied sincerely, though he still flicked Steve’s wrist with a metal finger.

Before Steve could say anything else the band set up on the far stage started up a new song. Steve looked around as the politicians, fat-cats, and a few sincere art lovers began to twirl elegantly around the dance floor. No one was paying them any attention as they held up the wall near the door. After the initial round of meet and greet at the mixer before dinner, everyone seemed to settle down and just accept the fact Captain Steve Rogers and Sargent James Buchannan Barnes were in attendance.

“You know what, fuck it. Let’s show these folks how to cut a rug.” Steve said, holding out a hand to Buck.

“Sounds like a plan Rogers.” Bucky replied and Steve led him out on the dancefloor.

They settled into an easy slow dance and, holding Bucky close, it took Steve a while to realize that the people nearest them were openly staring and whispering. Steve didn’t care though. This was the culmination of a dream he had had, that they both had had, for a literal lifetime. Being able to hold one another close and dance in public.

It had been Bucky’s idea. Mostly. He had wanted to come to the Gala last year but Steve had put it off. Not wanting to share Bucky, what they had together, with the public yet. But when Bucky had shown up with his hair cut and a suit over his arm a few months ago Steve knew he wouldn’t get out of it again.

Not that he really wanted to. Bucky had wanted to be able to publicly love and acknowledge Steve their entire relationship. He had hated hiding them as much as Steve did. But for Bucky, it had been less because it was _illegal_ and more because he hated hiding Steve.

‘ _Like you’re something to be ashamed of Stevie.”_ Buck had said over and over back in the day.

Now though it wasn’t a problem. Laws were different, and so were most people. The ones that didn’t like it would have to deal with the pair of them. And the rest of the team, (They all knew of course. Apparently he and Bucky were “extremely obvious”).

As the slow song changed into a slightly more upbeat and jazzier tune Steve stopped thinking as Bucky took the lead and led them through some of their old jazz moves. Steve couldn’t help but laugh aloud as they danced, not only at the incredulous and awe-filled looks of the other patrons but at the puhairyre joy on Buck’s face.

Later, after the dancing portion of the evening was over and the exhibition of the reserve collection was getting ready to start, he and Bucky were drinking champagne and fielding compliments on their dancing skill, (the richies were all too _polite and proper_ to comment on the obvious nature of their relationship), when a thought occurred to Steve.

“Buck…what did you mean by _most of your knives_? Do not tell me you managed to somehow sneak a knife in here.” Steve hissed, crowding up to Bucky’s side.

Bucky just smiled serenely and gave a wink as a couple of folks passed them with smiles and nods.

“Don’t worry Stevie. I didn't sneak _a_ knife in here. I snuck in three.” Bucky told him casually and Steve choked on a mouthful of champagne.

“You are going to get it when we get home.” Steve hissed again once he had caught his breath.

“Kinky.” Bucky replied happily, leaning against the wall and linking his metal fingers with Steve’s.

Steve just stared down at their linked hands, an unmistakable declaration to their fellow party-goers of their relationship, (as if the last forty-five minutes of dancing wasn’t enough), and just leaned back against the wall and polished off his drink.

“Love you, Buck.” He said after a while, feeling ridiculously happy to be standing there with Bucky.

“Love you too Stevie.” Buck replied, squeezing his hand.

**Author's Note:**

> So I am not entirely sure if this will be followed up or expanded. I really enjoy the story but I had a hard time keeping the thread and had to re-read it several times while I was writing it. I would like to include more 40s Stucky in it someday but it depends. 
> 
> I used a little bit of 40s slang, (found on google), "Ducky Shinecracker" is slang for a guy who can dance well. 
> 
> Bonus points to anyone who catches the nod to the work of the illustrious Owlet.


End file.
